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“
[780]
But when we had had our fill of food and drink, I was first to speak, and bade you follow with us; and ye were both right eager, and those twain laid on you many commands. Old Peleus bade his son Achilles ever be bravest, and pre-eminent above all,
[785]
but to thee did Menoetius, son of Actor, thus give command: ‘My child, in birth is Achilles nobler than thou, but thou art the elder though in might he is the better far. Yet do thou speak to him well a word of wisdom and give him counsel, and direct him; and he will obey thee to his profit.’
[790]
Thus did the old man charge thee, but thou forgettest. Yet even now at the last do thou speak thus to wise-hearted Achilles, if so be he may hearken. Who knows but that heaven helping thou mightest rouse his spirit with thy persuading? A good thing is the persuasion of a friend. But if in his heart he is shunning some oracle
[795]
and his queenly mother hath declared to him aught from Zeus, yet let him send thee forth, and with thee let the rest of the host of the Myrmidons follow, if so be thou mayest prove a light of deliverance to the Danaans; and let him give thee his fair armour to bear into the war, in hope that the Trojans may take thee for him, and so hold aloof from battle,
[800]
and the warlike sons of the Achaeans may take breath, wearied though they be; for scant is the breathing-space in battle. And lightly might ye that are unwearied drive men that are wearied with battle back toward the city from the ships and the huts.”
So spake he, and roused the heart in the breast of Patroclus,
[805]
and he set out to run along the line of the ships to Achilles, son of Aeacus. But when in his running Patroclus was come to the ships of godlike Odysseus, where was their place of gathering and of the giving of dooms, whereby also were builded their altars of the gods, there Eurypylus met him,
[810]
the Zeus-born son of Euaemon, smitten in the thigh with an arrow, limping from out the battle. And in streams down from his head and shoulders flowed the sweat, and from his grievous wound the black blood was gushing, yet was his spirit unshaken. At sight of him the valiant son of Menoetius had pity on him,
[815]
and with wailing spake to him winged words:“Ah ye wretched men, leaders and lords of the Danaans, thus then were ye destined, far from your friends and your native land, to glut with your white fat the swift dogs in Troy. But come, tell me this, Eurypylus, warrior fostered of Zeus,
[820]
will the Achaeans haply still hold back mighty Hector, or will they now perish, slain beneath his spear?”

Homer. The Iliad with an English Translation by A.T. Murray, Ph.D. in two volumes. Cambridge, MA., Harvard University Press; London, William Heinemann, Ltd. 1924.

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